not want to wake her.

Pretty soon the town crier went by. He was ringing a bell and reading in
a loud voice, from a paper in his hand, the description of a lost
child. You see, Louisa's father and mother had missed her early in the
forenoon and had looked for her in every place they could think of. Each
hour they grew more worried, and at dusk they decided to hire this man
to search the city.

When the runaway woke up and heard what the man was
shouting--"Lost--Lost--A little girl, six years old, in a pink frock,
white hat, and new, green shoes"--she called out in the darkness:
"Why--dat's ME!"

The town crier took Louisa by the hand and led her home, where you may
be sure she was welcomed with joy.

Mr. and Mrs. Alcott, from first to last, had had a good many frights
about this flyaway Louisa. Once when she was only two years old they
were traveling with her on a steamboat, and she darted away, in some
moment when no one was noticing her, and crawled into the engine-room to
watch the machinery. Of course her clothes were all grease and dirt, and
she might have been caught in the machinery and hurt.

You won't be surprised to know that the next day after this last affair
Louisa's parents made sure that she did not leave the house. Indeed, to
be entirely certain of her where-abouts, they tied her to the leg of a
big sofa for a whole day!

Except for this one fault, Louisa was a good child, so she felt much
ashamed that she had caused her mother, whom she loved dearly, so much
worry. As she sat there, tied to the sofa, she made up her mind that she
would never frighten her so again. No--she would cure herself of the
running-away habit!

After that day, whenever she felt the least desire to slip out of the
house without asking permission, she would hurry to her own little room
and shut the door tight. To keep her mind from bad plans she would shut
her eyes and make up stories--think them all out, herself, you know.
Then, when some of them seemed pretty good, she would write them down so
that she would not forget them. By and by she found she liked making
stories better than anything she had ever done in her life.

Her mother sometimes wondered why Louisa grew so fond of staying in her
little chamber at the head of the stairs, all of a sudden, but was
pleased that the runaway child had changed into such a quiet,
like-to-stay-at-home girl.

It was a long time before Louisa dared to mention the stories and rhymes